


Goddamn Right, You Should Be Scared of Me

by petzawentz



Series: Baby Look What You've Done To Me [2]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, BDSM, Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Morality, Kidnapping, M/M, Master/Slave Mentality, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petzawentz/pseuds/petzawentz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the events of "When Brendon Met Spencer"</p><p>Brendon finally belonged to Spencer. They were happy, and everything was perfect.</p><p>Until it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goddamn Right, You Should Be Scared of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so when I first started writing this, I expected it to be about 5k, maybe 8k? And that soooo obviously didn't happen, so here we are.
> 
> A huge thank you to Kandakicksass for giving me the idea for this whole entire thing, and keeping me motivated throughout, love you babes :*

Spencer was furious. 

Absolutely fucking _furious_.

He had left for _two days_ \- two fucking days - and everything went wrong. 

So, _so_ wrong.

He hadn’t wanted to leave Brendon alone, but Ross (goddamn _Ross_ ) had _insisted_ Spencer leave him behind, away from Spencer’s business and far away from any danger.

Supposedly.

Still, Ross’ days were numbered, best friend or not.

_Spencer had just told Brendon he was leaving for a couple days to go to a meeting in Chicago, and was standing at the foot of the bed, facing an angry Brendon, who was pouting and sitting on the dresser._

_“Baby, it’s only gonna be two days!”_

_Brendon gestured enthusiastically with his hands as he spoke. “ **And** two nights! Why can’t I just come with!? I want to go with you and I’ll be bored anyway, so it’s senseless for me to just sit here and wait!”_

_Spencer sighed, irritated. “You can’t come with because I’m going to be in meetings almost the entire time, and if you want to go anywhere, I’m going to have to have people guarding you at every possible minute an-"_

_Brendon interrupted angrily, sliding off the dresser and beginning to pace. "I'm not a fucking child Spencer! I don't need a goddamn babysi-"_

_Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and snapping, “Brendon!”_

_His head snapped up when he heard a dull “thump,” to see Brendon trembling on his knees, hands resting in his lap with his head bowed._

_Dropping like that, without hesitation, must have hurt, but Brendon had been trained so well, hadn’t made a sound. Spencer stared at him, not saying anything for a while, because Brendon **hated** it when Spencer didn’t acknowledge him, before finally speaking._

_"Come here, boy."_

_He heard Brendon whine softly at the indifference in the name, before he leaned forward onto his hands and crawled over to Spencer to kneel again, this time between his legs._

_Spencer set a hand on his head, feeling his slight trembling, before he gripped a handful of hair and pulled sharply until his face was tilted up._

_Brendon avoided eye contact. Instead, he looked to the side and licked his lips anxiously._

_“I don’t like this behavior, whore.” Brendon flushed but otherwise didn’t react. Spencer gripped his hair harder, before speaking again, soft, and dangerous. “Look at me.” Brendon obeyed, looking straight at Spencer for the first time since his outburst - though this time, there was hesitance and shame in his eyes._

_Spencer relaxed his hold, but didn’t give any praise. “I’m disappointed in you. You know I don’t like being questioned.” Spencer really had trained him well, as Brendon nodded, tears welling up in his eyes when Spencer expressed his disappointment._

_Spencer finally loosened his hold, and ran his hand down to rest on the back of Brendon’s neck, his signal for Brendon to lower his head again. “You will not go with me, because it’s a short amount of time and I know you can survive without me for two days.” He paused when Brendon whimpered softly, squeezing his neck in warning before continuing. “... and until I get back, you’re not allowed to touch yourself, go outside, or come. Do you understand, pet?”_

_Brendon nodded, shaking slightly, before responding as he was supposed to, speaking in almost a whisper. “I understand, Master. I’ll stay here and wait for you - no going outside, touching myself, or coming.” His voice sounded wet, and Spencer knew he was crying, like he did every time he was rebuked. Spencer nodded, satisfied, and ran his fingers through Brendon’s hair._

_“That’s my good pet.” Brendon immediately relaxed at the praise and Spencer let him revel in it for a moment before he stood. “I’m going to go tell the cook to make dinner earlier tonight so we can eat together before I leave, then I want you to start packing my bag, alright?”_

_“Yes, Master.”_

_Spencer knelt down in front of Brendon, cupping his chin and lifting his head, giving him a kiss, thorough and claiming. He made sure to bite down on Brendon’s lip as he pulled away, leaving him cloudy-eyed and flushed._

_“I love you, my little minx.” Brendon blushed, eyes still wet, as he smiled up at him._

_“I love you too, Master.”_

\-----

That had been almost sixty hours ago, and Spencer had been home nine .

He'd known something was off the moment he'd entered his property, years of having to trust his gut immediately alerting him to the fact that there was something wrong.

He had alerted the men who'd come back with him, sending Toro and Trohman to check the grounds as he and three others went inside. They'd split off in separate directions, guns drawn, to go search the house silently, two upstairs and two downstairs.

Spencer had gone in the direction of the library, and a few moments later Weekes had yelled from the kitchen. “Sir, you may want to see this!” 

He reached the kitchen, and his heart froze. The kitchen door had been forced open, and his cook was bound and lying on the floor. She was alive, but from the looks of it, she had suffered a head injury. Spencer told Weekes to call his private doctor before running through the house and up the stairs, heart beating wildly.

When he entered the bedroom he shared with Brendon, he almost literally ran into Iero, who shook his head at him and told him that no one had found Brendon.

Spencer had gone eerily still, before calmly telling Iero to go downstairs to help Weekes, and closing his door behind him. As soon as he did he had his phone out, and was calling Ross, and telling him to contact Wentz, Saporta - _anyone_ who owed him a favor, or would be sympathetic.

He was going to fucking _butcher_ whoever had done this.

\-----

Brendon groaned as he woke up, disoriented and confused as to why he seemed to be moving. As he slowly came to his senses, he remembered what had happened, and stilled, trying to figure out where he was.

He was in a moving vehicle, lying on his side in what he assumed was the backseat, unbound, the back of his head smarting from where someone had hit him, but otherwise uninjured.

Opening his eyes, he discovered he was in a van, with the driver and someone else in the passenger seat.

They hit a bump, and Brendon groaned, alerting them both to his consciousness. The man in the passenger seat turned around, smiling not unkindly when he seen he was awake.

"Oh, good; I was starting to worry Brent here had hit you a bit too hard."

The other man - Brent - scoffed. "Yeah, whatever Conrad."

Brendon sat up slowly, minding his head, and was very aware of Conrad's eyes on him as he did. Once he was sat up, he started messing with his own hands nervously. Conrad noticed and furrowed his eyebrows.

"You okay, kid?"

Brendon ignored his question. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

Conrad looked momentarily surprised, glancing at Brent before turning back to Brendon. "We don't want anything from you, that's our employer." He huffed disbelievingly. "Though, we did figure you'd be a little more grateful."

Brendon shook his head. "Employer? _Grateful_??? You fucking kidnapped me!"

Brent looked into the rearview mirror, giving Brendon a 'duh' kind of look. "Woah! Settle down, kid, our employer said you'd been taken somewhere against your will by Spencer Smith, and hired _us_ to get you back!"

Brendon gaped, shocked, then his breathing picked up, a panicked expression crossing his face. "I-I don't care _who_ hired you, or what they think about my Master. Take me back!"

Conrad lifted his armrest, slowly unbuckling as he tried to look Brendon in the eyes and calm him down. "Hey, kid - Brendon, calm down! I don't know why you want to go back, but Smith is _not_ a good man, an-"

Brendon shook. "NO! Take me back! I want to go home!" 

"Kid, seriously, we _are_ taking yo-"

Brendon trembled . "No! You're taking me to the city; I don't want to go back there! I want to go _home_! To my Master!" 

He scrambled to the door and pulled frantically at the handle, but was pulled away by Conrad, who wrapped his arms around his waist. He pulled him away, trying to avoid Brendon's limbs as he struggled.

"Brendon, stop! We're trying to help you!" He got Brendon, who was now sobbing, on his back and pinned to the seat.

"N-No! Please, don't! Take me h-home!"

Conrad met Brent's eyes in the rearview mirror, and held his hand out for Brent to hand him a syringe. 

"We're not taking you back there! You need _help_!"

Brendon wailed, kicking harder, Conrad stilling him as much as he could, before he pushed the syringe into his neck.

Brendon kicked again. "S-Stop it! I-I want my M-Master! P-Plea-" He broke off as the drugs took effect, finally stilling beneath Conrad, who let out a breath and finally relaxed. He turned to Brent and sighed .

"Well, shit."

\-----

When Brendon gained consciousness next , he was lying down on his side again, this time on a couch, and his ankles and wrists were tied.

He almost moved, but stopped when he heard one of the guys from earlier speaking.

"-s fucking got Stockholm Syndrome or something; kept going on about how he wanted to go "home" the enti-" Pause. "No not _home_ to the city, but home as in, he wanted us to take him back to _Smith_." Another pause, and then he groaned frustratedly. "No we didn't-he really does want to go back!" Brendon heard his foot tapping impatiently. "I am absolutely certain he wants to go back to Smith! He called him his fucking Master!"

He had moved farther away from Brendon as he spoke, so now all Brendon could make out were muffled sounds, and none he could make out. He huffed, finally opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings from where he was lying on his side.

He was in what looked like an apartment, and he could see part of the kitchen to his right, and a hallway to his left. He guessed whichever man had been on the phone -he thought it was Brent but he couldn't be sure- had gone down the hallway. 

He struggled until he was sitting up, finally realizing how hungry he was. He started angrily pulling at his wrists, trying to loosen the ties.

_God damn it. I'm tired and I'm hungry and I want to go home, I hate this I hate this I hate this._

He wasn't getting anywhere, so he let out a disheartened sigh, and brought his hands up to his face to rub at his eyes. When he opened them, Conrad was coming out of the kitchen, carrying a bowl. He eyed Brendon warily.

"Hey kid, you hungry?" Brendon didn't reply, but glared at him hatefully. Conrad sighed.

"Look, we're not taking you back there," When Brendon opened his mouth, presumably to argue, he held up a hand. " _We are not taking you back to that place_. But we're being paid to bring you back to our employer safe, and we aren't complete assholes, so we want you to eat." He set the bowl down on the coffee table in front of Brendon, before looking at Brendon again. "If you don't eat, and are sick and unhealthy by the time we get where we're going, then that will entirely be on you, and I don't think you want that."

They stared at each other, silent, for a moment, before Conrad spoke again. "So I'm gonna ask you again, do you want to eat?"

Brendon contemplated, then his shoulders slumped. "Yes, please."

Conrad raised an eyebrow at Brendon's behavior, then shifted uncomfortably when he realized where Brendon had _learned_ that behavior, but didn't comment.

He untied Brendon's hands, then re-tied them, loose enough that he'd be able to feed himself, but not giving him enough leeway to try anything.

Brendon began eating what turned out to be a stew of some sort, obviously starving, and Conrad settled himself on the chair next to the couch, and took out his phone. A few minutes later he heard Brendon put his spoon down, and looked over to see Brendon looking at him.

"You know my Master's gonna find me." Conrad straightened, and gave him an incredulous look.

"Oh, really? What makes you say that?" Brendon shrugs, finishing his food.

"He loves me, and he's going to look for me until he finds me." 

Conrad scoffs."I hate to break it to you kid, but Spencer Smith is a sociopath, there's no way he _actually_ cares about you."

"He makes me have _at least_ six guards whenever I go anywhere off the grounds, if he even lets me, and I have to be with him if he so much as leaves the country! He’ll do anything to protect what he owns."

Conrad looks shocked. "You're not his property! You're a human being! With-with feelings and a brain. Do you even know how fucked up this is?"

Brendon gives him a venomous look. “I don’t care _what_ you think; he loves me, and I love him and know he’s going to find me.”

Conrad groaned. “You don’t love him though! You’ve got stockholm syndrome! Whatever you think you feel for him isn’t re-”

He stopped when he heard a crash. Brendon had thrown his bowl to the floor, shattering it into pieces. Brendon glared at him, looking close to tears, before swinging his feet back up onto the couch and turning so his back was facing Conrad.

Conrad sighed, frustrated, and got up to go find a broom.

Brendon let out a shaky breath when he was gone, covering his face with his hands as he finally let the tears fall.

\-----

“So you’re saying that Brendon not only has family _alive_ , but also _looking for him?_ ” 

Jon ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. “Yeah that’s exactly what I’m saying, and apparently he was in the fucking FBI, so he’s got connections and knew everything was a setup.”

Spencer didn’t reply. Just stared down at the information on the table in front of him, ignoring everyone else he’d had gathered inside his office, and studying the information.

Samuel G. Urie, FBI, Counter-terrorism.

_Figures._

His mother was Brendon’s paternal aunt (divorced), and he hadn’t been at the family gathering the night of the fire due to car troubles (of all fucking things, _car troubles_ ). He was a year older than Brendon, and they’d been close growing up, if the pictures in front of him were any indication.

There were pictures of them from family Christmases, Easters, Halloween, Birthdays, sleepovers, weddings - you name it, they were there. Up until the age of 12 and 11, they even dressed similarly. 

It seemed they’d been in contact up until about a month before the fire, which Spencer _knew_ , because he’d been the one to slowly start cutting Brendon off from his family before then in the first place.

_“C’mon babe, just leave it ring.”_

_“But it’s my mom, Spence.”_

_“And I’m your boyfriend, who really wants to kiss you.”_

_“You’re awfully persistent, you know that right?”_

_“Mmm you love it.”_

_-_

_“Hey Spence I was just gonna go out to eat with my brother.”_

_“Aw, babe, just cancel. You know I can’t come over tomorrow.”_

_“Okay, just let me text him quick.”_

_“Quickly, baby.”_

Samuel, apparently, had noticed.

According to his phone records (that Wentz had so kindly dug up for him) he’d called Brendon at least 28 times after he’d found out about the fire, having known that Brendon wasn’t going to make it to the reunion either. 

When Brendon hadn’t picked up (due to Spencer having shut off his phone), he’d rented a hotel room and waited two weeks for Brendon to come back, visiting his apartment every day, only to be told at the two week mark that Brendon had sold the place, but hadn’t been back.

He’d asked around, found out where he worked, and talked to Brendon’s bosses, only to find out he’d moved away with some guy after the death of his family. He’d gotten a name, _Smith_ , and had made the connection to Spencer, who was well known in certain circles.

Samuel had then gotten ahold of Brent Wilson, and Thomas Conrad, unofficial private detectives/kidnappers, who did what they were told, almost no questions asked, for the right amount of money.

They’d gotten onto the grounds in a fucking _UPS Van_ , had drugged the guards, and snuck around the back to avoid any more guards, where they’d run into the cook.

This could ruin _everything._

Spencer had worked so _hard_ at making sure that there was nothing to make Brendon want to leave him, to make sure he was completely devoted to him.

Now there was someone who could fuck that all up, and Spencer might have to start all over.

_Fucking damn it._

Spencer finally looked up from the papers, then took a deep breath before speaking.

“I need a location on Brendon, Urie, Wilson and Conrad. Wentz, I want you looking for Urie; I don't care who you have to bribe, or kill, or _whatever_ , just find him.” After Wentz had nodded and retreated, phone already in hand, he continued. “It’s been twenty hours since they took him, so they definitely aren’t in the city yet, but Ways? I want everyone you can spare keeping an eye out.” 

They both exited the room, and Spencer spoke again. “Joseph, I want you and your team to erase anything about Brendon from anywhere. I want him off the grid. Gone. If someone searches for him, it better bring up eulogies. And I want myself erased from the FBI, CIA, whatever the fuck else there are databases. I only want to exist by word of mouth. Got it?” All three of them left as well, leaving Spencer, Jon, Ryan, and Gabe Saporta, who was smiling knowingly.

“I’m assuming you want me to be with you when you find the men who took your pet, am i right?”

Spencer nodded. “It's in your area of expertise, and I figured you'd enjoy it."

Gabe smirked lewdly. “And you want someone who would sympathize.”

“I know you’d be the same way if anyone touched William.” Gabe laughed.

“If anyone touched my kitten, they’d be dead.”

“Exactly. So I can trust you to help me?”

“Completely.”

\-----

A week later, Brendon was desperately trying to find a way to get out of being taken to whoever Conrad (whose name was apparently Tom) and Brent’s “employer” was.

After two days of one of them always having to help him to the bathroom, or get from the living room to the kitchen and back, they’d gotten sick of it, and untied him, but had made it clear that if he somehow managed to get past the high-tech lock system on their door, or jump out of one of the five story windows, neither of them would hesitate at shooting him in the knee.

Currently, he’d locked himself in the bathroom after hearing them discuss taking him to the mysterious employer that morning.

“This is absolutely ridiculous, you know we can pick the lock or break down the fucking door to get to you dumbass!” That was Brent shouting through the door, accompanied by him angrily hitting it.

Brendon stayed where he was, sitting in the corner of the tub and yelled, “Fuck off!”

There was a frustrated groan, followed by mumbles, then Tom was speaking.

“Kid seriously, you know we will get in there” he paused. “you know Brent’s not happy right? If you don’t open the door then he’s gonna jump straight to pissed off.”

Brendon stayed silent, knees up and arms crossed in front of his chest. A moment later there was a sigh, then the sound of the doorknob being fiddled with, and then it was opening.

When Brendon didn’t move and continued staring straight ahead at the wall, he heard an angry huff and then he was crying out; his arm having been jerked by Brent pulling him upright, and out of the bathtub.

“God I am so _fucking_ sick of this! I can’t fucking _wait_ to be rid of you!” 

Brent was yelling in his face, and Brendon was _lonely_ and _tired_ and he really fucking missed his Master, and frankly, he was fucking sick of this too, so he yelled back.

“Well then maybe you should’ve just fucking taken me back _home_ asshole!”

The next second, his front was pressed up against the wall, a hand was pressed against the back of his neck and a gun was being held to his temple. He let out a breath and closed his eyes, freezing.

“You fucking _listen to me bitch_. We are taking you to the guy who hired us, and you know, usually I make sure the person I’m taking you to is decent and isn’t going to like, kill you or anything,” he squeezed Brendon’s neck tighter, making him whimper. “but I am really, _really_ considering just dropping you off and leaving because I really do not give two shits whether you live or die.”

He sounded like he wanted to continue, but was cut off by Tom muttering a warning. 

“ _Brent_.” 

Brent ground his teeth together, before pulling away from Brendon, holstering his gun and walking out of the bathroom.

Brendon shakily pushed away from the wall, sitting down on the toilet with his arms wrapped defensively around his middle as he tried not to cry. Tom sighed and sat on the edge of the bathtub next to where Brendon was sitting.

“You alright?” Brendon shook his head, but didn’t say anything. “Do you want some water or something? I think there’s still some ice cream left over from last night?”

Brendon shook his head again, before laughing bitterly. “I don’t want _ice cream_ , I want, I-” He broke off as tears started to fall. “I-I just w-want to g-go _h-home_ , I w-want m-my M-Master.” He wiped at his eyes. Tom sighed, and knowing full well where this argument always led, stood up and left Brendon alone.

\-----

An hour later, they had loaded up into the van Brendon had woke up in a week ago, and were on their way, Tom driving and Brent in the back with Brendon, gun in hand and pointed at him.

Not that Brendon was fighting anymore. He hadn’t spoken a word the entire hour after the bathroom incident, and had let them pull him outside without a fuss.

After half an hour of driving, they arrived at their destination and Brendon was having trouble breathing.

What if this person was someone who did want to kill him? He didn’t think there would be anyone, but what did he know? He was so deep in his worries that he hadn’t noticed them stopping, and when Brent jabbed his side with the gun, he jumped. Brent rolled his eyes.

“Let’s go, we’ve gotta meet the guy in twenty minutes, and I hate being late.”

Brendon got out of the van quickly, then looked at the area around them, only to discover they were in the woods. 

_Oh my fucking god I’m going to die._

He shivered and stepped closer to Tom, who snorted a laugh under his breath but otherwise didn’t comment. A few minutes later, Brent came out of the van to joined them.

“He said he’d have a guy come pick the kid up for him, and he should be here soon, so be on guard.” 

When Brendon felt himself getting panicky again, he turned to Tom, who was leaning up against the van and had his eyes on the entrance they’d came through.

“D-Do you know who it is that hired you?” Tom glanced sideways at him, before fixing his gaze on the path again.

“Yeah I do.” Brendon waited, hoping he’d elaborate, but when he didn’t, decided to push.

“Can you tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Tom sighed. “We were told not to, okay? He doesn’t want you knowing until we get you to him.”

Brendon didn’t say anything for a few minutes, then, nervously chewing on his lip, he spoke again.

“Do you know what he wants with me? He’s not going to hurt me is he?” Tom looked at him again, this time looking him in the face.

“He’s not going to hurt you, the only reason he wants you is to keep you safe. Me and Brent,” He gestured toward where Brent was standing, watching other areas of the clearing. “we don’t take people to their deaths.”

Brendon nodded, looking relieved, before he seen a vehicle moving up the path. Tom and Brent both tensed.

The vehicle stopped, and a moment later, a casually dressed, yet tall and imposing, man got out of the car. They walked over to the car, Brent holding onto Brendon, and Tom slightly in front of both of them, then stopped. The man studied them a moment, then took out a piece of folded paper.

“Which one of you is Wilson?”

Brent held out his hand, and the man handed him the paper. Brent opened it, read whatever was on it, nodded, then handed it back, seemingly pleased with whatever was on it.

“Looks like he’s all yours then.” Brendon looked between them as Brent and Tom both stepped to the side. The man smiled down at Brendon.

“I’m assuming you’re Brendon?” Brendon nodded. “Good, my name’s Zack.” When Brendon didn’t say anything, he raised his eyebrows, but otherwise didn’t comment. “Are you ready to go then? I don’t wanna keep the boss waiting, he’s been anxious about this for months.”

Brendon was about to retort, when a gunshot rang through the forest. The next second, he was being shoved to the ground behind the car by Zack, who, along with Brent and Tom, had drawn his gun and was now looking to find whoever had shot at them first.

After a few moments of silence, Zack called out. “Who the fuck is there?”

A pause, and then someone yelled back. “Where’s Brendon?”

Brendon’s head shot up, and he moved up so he was standing, before yelling, “Master?”

Zack looked at him in confusion, before Spencer was speaking again.

“Yeah baby it’s me, are you okay?”

Brendon looked around frantically, trying to find where his voice was coming from. “Yes Master, I’m fi-”

He was abruptly cut off as he was pulled down, Brent’s hand covering his mouth as he pinned him to the ground.

“Baby? What happened?” Spencer’s slightly panicked voice came again, and Brendon struggled against Brent, who’s hand slipped away long enough for Brendon to let out a sharp cry. The next time Spencer spoke, his voice was filled with anger..

“What the fuck are you doing to him? I swear to god if you hurt him-” He was cut off by Tom releasing a shot, as Brent and Zack began to wrestle Brendon into Zack’s car. Brent held onto Brendon as Zack got into the car, then handed him to Zack, who wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled Brendon, who had started screaming and struggling the moment Brent’s hand had left his mouth .

“Please let me go! Let me go let me go let me-ah!” He kicked at the door when Brent tried to close it. “D-Don’t fucking do th-Master p-please don’t let the-!” He heard more shooting and his head whipped around as he tried to find the source. 

Zack used his distraction as an advantage, pulling his arms behind his back and cuffing them, before quickly crawling into the front seat and locking the doors, before starting up the car and pulling the car into a sharp turn out of the clearing.

Before they were out of sight, Brenon got a clear look at Brent and Tom climbing into their van, while several people were chasing after them. He got a glimpse of someone -it looked like Ryan- pulling Brent out of the van, before they were out of sight.

Brendon choked on a sob, kicking at the door and pulling at the cuffs so hard his wrists were starting to bleed. When they were out of the clearing, he slumped into the seat, and quietly began to cry.

\-----

Back at the clearing, Brent and Tom were both bound and sitting up against their van.

Spencer was angrily barking orders, telling people to tail the car Brendon had been in, others to search the van, and then turned to face the two men.

He was silent for a moment, face blank, before speaking as he walked casually towards them.

"So, gentlemen, usually in this situation, I’d be wanting information from you,” He stopped in front of them, “but, I already know who you are, I know who you’re working for, and I know where Brendon’s going, so I don’t need that.” When both of them looked nervous, he laughed. “Oh don’t worry, I’ve still got questions for you.” He smirked, then continued. “When you took Brendon, how did he react?” 

Neither men volunteered information, and he sighed.

“Well? Was he scared? Confused? Glad? Relieved? How did he _act_?”

Brent licked his lips. “He freaked out, wanted us to take him back.” Spencer raised his eyebrows.

“Take him back to the city?”

“No, back to you.”

A smile slowly appeared on Spencer’s face, and he moved so he was standing in front of Brent, before crouching down, and making eye contact with him.

“Did he cry?”

“Yes.”

“Did he beg you to bring him back?”

“Every fucking day.”

“Did he ever try to escape?”

“Y-Yeah, every time he got the chance.”

Spencer’s smile grew with every answer, until he was full on grinning.

“Alright, one more question then, how did he refer to me? Was I Spencer? Or his boyfriend? Just ‘Him’? Spence?”

Brent looked hesitant and uncomfortable, and Spencer rolled his eyes as he pulled out his gun, pointing it at Tom.

“Answer the question Wilson, I’m a busy man.”

Brent looked at Tom, then back at Spencer.

“He-He always called you his, uh. His master.”

Spencer put the gun away, smiling as he did.

“Thank you gentlemen, you’ve been very helpful.” He stood, then turned and looked across the clearing at a tall man who was leant up against a tree, before gesturing for him to come over.

When the man reached them, Spencer said something to him, then turned back to Tom and Brent, grinning again.

“So I’ve arranged for you to go home with my friend here, I’m sure you’ve heard of him, Gabe Saporta?”

Tom’s eyes widened, and Brent threw his head back so it thumped against the van, muttering a ‘fucking _shit_ ’ as he did.

Gabe laughed, looking pleased. “I see my reputation precedes me.” Spencer laughed too, then clapped Gabe on the shoulder. 

“They’re all yours, I’ve got shit to do.” Gabe nods and Spencer begins walking away, when he’s stopped by an angry shout.

“Fucking bastard!” He turned around, surprised, to see Tom glaring at him.

“Excuse me?”

“You fucking heard me!"

Spencer moved closer, a dangerous look on his face.

"Care to elaborate Mr. Conrad?"

Ton ignored Brent's warning look, and laughed disbelievingly.

"You’re kidding me right? You want me to elaborate on why you’re a bastard? You _kidnapped_ Brendon, just to brainwash him and turn him into some sort of fucking sex slave, the poor kid doesn’t even see that it’s _fucked up_!” He stopped, taking a breath, and then continued angrily. “And now you find out he was fucking _crying_ because he wanted to be back with you, and you fucking _smiled_ like a fucked up whack job!”

When he finished, Spencer was silent, and staring at him contemplatively. Then he walked forward slowly and leisurely.

“When you put it that way, you make it sound so….” he paused, thinking. “crude. It wasn’t crude though,” he stopped in front of Tom and Brent, then started pacing back and forth in front of them. “It was _planned_ , very meticulously, for _months_. I put a lot of work into making sure Brendon would love me you know.“ 

At their surprised faces, he scoffed. “I did! I seen him working one day and I had to have him. We dated, all normal and everything even! But that got boring, so, yeah, I had his family killed,” Tom gasped, and Spencer smirked. “yeah I’m kinda proud of that, not gonna lie. But his family died, and he was _so distraught_ , it actually hurt me y’know? Seeing him in so much pain. But I helped him get better, I let him cry, and I let him grieve, then I brought him home. I brought him with me and I trained him. I molded him into something perfect, and beautiful, and _mine_.” Spencer shrugged, and finally stopped his pacing. “It took maybe six months overall, and I had him just the way I wanted him; submissive, willing, and with no one to take him away from me.” He leveled them with a venomous look. “Until you shitheads came along of course, that’s why I had to check, I had to make sure he still was devoted to me, and that I wouldn’t have to use unnecessary force to get him back.”

He schooled his face into a terrifyingly calm expression then, “I _love_ Brendon, and I want to protect him, something idiots like you two could never understand.” He turns and quickly walks away, yelling out a “Get them out of my sight!” Over his shoulder to Gabe, before disappearing into a waiting vehicle.

\-----

They had driven for almost two hours in almost complete silence, other than Brendon’s occasional quiet sniffle, and Zack’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel occasionally.

When they finally stopped in front of a small house, out in the middle of assfuck, nowhere, Zack got out first, before opening Brendon’s door and leaning down to look at him.

“Are you gonna come out, or are you gonna make me force you again?” Brendon shook his head, moving stiffly with his hands still behind his back. When he was out, Zack shut the door, then turned and held up a key, waiting for Brendon to turn around so he could unlock the cuffs. When they were finally off, Brendon stretched his arms out, then winced in pain, grimacing when he seen his wrists, now covered in dried blood. 

Zack sighed, “The boss is _not_ going to like that.” Then placed a hand on Brendon’s back and started guiding him towards the house.

Brendon looks a the land surrounding the house. It must’ve been a farm once, as there was a barn, and some fencing still up. He couldn’t see any animals though, except a couple cats sitting on the front porch.

When they were in the house, Zack led Brendon through a hallway, and into an office. Zack points at Brendon.

“Stay here. If you try anything, you won’t get far at all before I catch you, capisce?” Brendon shrinks back, nodding furiously. Zack looks satisfied, and leaves the room, leaving Brendon to look around,

A few minutes later, he’s immersed in looking at one of the bookshelves, when he hears someone say “Brendon?” He whips around, startled, and looks at the man who’s just come into the room. He’s tall, at least six inches taller than Brendon, has black hair, and looks a lot like Brendon.

“S-Sam?”

Sam nods, and walks hesitantly forward. “Can I hug you?” Brendon nods, before running to Sam and hugging him.

“O-Oh my god Sam, y-you’re _alive_ , I thought you were _dead_.” Sam squeezes him tighter.

“I know, oh my god Bren, shit I know, I thought I’d lost you.” Brendon pulls away, tears in his eyes, and smiling.

“I thought you were gone, but you’re here oh my god how are you alive?”

“I wasn’t at the house, I had car troubles and wasn’t able to make it,” He laughs bitterly, “of all days it had to be that one.”

Brendon shakes his head, then hugs him again. “I’m glad you did though.”

Sam hugs him back. “I am too, I can’t imagine how you must have felt thinking you were alone.”

Brendon doesn’t reply. He feels kind of guilty, he hadn’t actually thought about his family much since he’d moved in with Spencer.

Sam kisses the top of Brendon’s head, then pulls away. “Well I can imagine you’re probably hungry, and Zack told me we should probably get your wrists cleaned up, so we’ll do that, get you a change of clothes, and then get you fed okay?”

Brendon nods, and Sam leads him out of the room.

\-----

Two days later, Brendon and Sam are eating breakfast together, when Brendon clears his throat nervously.

Sam looks up, looking at Brendon curiously.

“You okay B?”

Brendon nods. “Yeah. I, uh. I just wanted to ask if um. Well, if.” He sighs. “I can like, leave here can’t I?” Sam looks momentarily taken aback, and then nods.

“Well yeah, of course you can leave, you’re not my prisoner Brendon. But, where do you want to go?”

When Brendon doesn’t answer, he shakes his head. “No way Brendon, I won’t let you.”

“Sam, he’s probably worried, and I miss him!”

“Brendon he’s dangerous, and he was holding you prisoner!”

“He’s not dangerous to _me_! And he wasn’t holding me prisoner, I just didn’t have anywhere to go!”

Sam sighs. “Brendon, he has you _brainwashed_ , he’s turned you into his slave! You’ve got fucking Stockholm Syndrome!”

Brendon looks frustrated. “I’m not brainwashed! Why the hell does everyone _think_ that!?”

“Because you are! He kidnapped you, keeps you locked away in his house, doesn’t let you leave unless he’s with you, and I’m fairly certain he had the whole thing planned out before it even _happened_!” 

“Sam he loves me! And even if he did have it planned, then that means he just didn’t want to lose me!”

“He’s not a good man! Do you even know what he does for a living?”

Brendon pouts stubbornly for a moment, before shrugging. “No. But he goes on business trips sometimes, and he’s rich, so he must be a businessman or something.”

Sam runs his fingers through his hair, while letting out a deep breath. “No Bren, he’s not a businessman. His name is Spencer Smith, and he’s a _very_ well known Mafia leader.”

Brendon’s silent for a moment, and then shrugs again. “I don’t care. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad person.”

“He _kills_ people!”

“Well they’re probably bad people!”

Sam slams a hand on the table, and Brendon jumps. “Damn it Brendon, he killed our family!”

Brendon’s eyes widen, and he stares at Sam in shock. “N-No h-he didn’t, i-it was a gas leak. T-That’s what the cop..” His breathing picks up, and his bottom lip quivers, before he whispers, “b-but i-it also l-looked like it might not have b-been an accident.”

They’re both silent for a moment, before Sam softly speaks again. “I. I’m sorry Brendon, but Spencer, he. He killed our family, and I think he did it just so he could have you.”

Brendon’s silent as he stares down at the table, picking at a chip in the varnish. 

“Are you okay Brendon?”

Brendon nods. “Y-Yeah. I’m alright. I think I’m gonna go lie down though, is that alright?”

Sam shakes his head again. “You don’t have to ask me for permission to do stuff okay? I’m not your-your uh. Master. Or whatever.”

Brendon shakes his head vehemently. “No. You’re not my master. And neither is _he_.” He pushes himself up from the table, and heads down the hallway towards his room.

Sam sighs when he hears the door shut, setting his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands.

\-----

Over the course of the next few weeks, Sam keeps a close eye on Brendon. He gives him free reign of the house and the land surrounding it, but there’s no phones or computers in the house, that he lets Brendon have access to.

The first week Brendon’s there, he doesn’t speak much, and avoids Sam for the most part. He watches TV (something he hasn’t done in months, since Spencer only has Netflix), and reads, and that’s about it.

He mentions Spencer five times, and the first time he calls him Master, the rest, Spencer.

After the second week, Brendon isn’t so quiet anymore, and he seems happier, more like his old self.

He mentions Spencer twice, in passing, and calls him Spencer each time.

After the third week, he’s found the guitar in the closet of his bedroom, and hasn’t stopped playing it. He talks to Sam like he used to, and seems happy. 

He hasn’t mentioned Spencer once.

In the middle of the fourth week, Sam comes into Brendon’s room, where he’s lying on his back on the floor, strumming mindlessly at the guitar. Sam laughs, and stands over him.

“Bored?” Brendon continues strumming, smiling back at him.

“Nah, I just think better like this.”

“It’s ‘cause your brain doesn’t have to concentrate on keeping you sat up, multitasking is hard for you.”

Brendon squints his eyes at him. “Hey! I’m talking and playing aren’t I? That’s multitasking!”

Sam crosses his arms. “You’ve been playing the same three chords over and over since you started talking.”

Brendon blinks, then pouts and stops strumming. “You’re an asshole.”

Sam laughs again. “Yeah but _I_ can multitask.”

“Har har har, very funny.”

Brendon resumes playing, starting in on a Bon Jovi song, “So, did you want something or did you just come in here to make fun of me?”

Sam shakes his head, “Nah, I just came in to tell you I was heading into town to pick up some groceries, and wanted to know if you wanted to come with?”

Brendon contemplates, then shakes his head. “Don’t feel like it, and I was planning on doing some laundry anyway.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “By laundry you mean nap, right?”

Brendon shrugs, grinning. “Hey if I suddenly get tired ten minutes after you leave, I can’t help that can I?”

“You’re like a freaking cat I swear to god.”

Brendon grins wider and pretends to purr. Sam laughs and shakes his head, then turns to leave, calling out a fond, “Idiot!” over his shoulder as he does.

Brendon yells, “You love me!” and grins when he hears Sam laugh again.

He hears Sam’s car start, then pull out of the drive way. He forces himself to wait, and plays through several songs, before he finally gets up off the floor, and sets the guitar aside.

Nervously, he walks down the hallway towards Sam’s bedroom, releasing a shaky breath when he finds it unlocked. He looks around, even though he _knows_ he’s the only one in the house, then pushes the door open.

He heads straight for the desk in the corner, where there’s a landline phone sitting on it. He’d seen it sitting here a couple weeks ago, and has been waiting to get a chance to look at it and find out if it’s even working.

_Please be working please be working please be working._

He looks behind himself, then picks up the phone, and almost cries when he hears the dial tone on the other line. Heart pounding, he enters in the number Spencer had made him memorize the first month after he’d moved in with him.

It rings.

Still ringing.

It rings a third time, and a fourth, and a fifth.

_Come on come on fucking come on._

It rings a sixth time, and this time there’s a click.

“Hello?”

Brendon lets out a relieved sob. “M-Master?”

There’s shuffling on the other end, and then Spencer’s frantic voice come through. “Brendon? Oh my god Bren-baby are you okay? Are you hurt? How are you calling? Where are you?”

Brendon’s legs are shaky, so he slides down until he’s sitting up against the wall. “I-I’m okay, I-I uh, I don’t know where I a-am. B-But it’s an old farmhouse, there’s a, uh a landline and I’m using that.”

Spencer sighs, sounding relieved. “Okay sweetheart, how much time do you have?”

“I-I don’t know, probably not long, are you gonna come get me?”

“I’ve been looking for almost a month baby, I’m going to find you. Who are you with?”

Brendon takes a deep breath. “I’m with my cousin. He’s alive, and he found me, but he won’t let me see you Master, he said-he said you don’t l-love me and that you’re not g-gonna f-fin-”

“Ssh baby, it’s okay, he’s wrong, you know that right? I love you and I’m going to find you, I’m looking, and I’m going to save you, and bring you home with me, and I’m never going to let anyone take you again.”

Brendon sniffled. “H-How are you gonna find me? I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to c-call you again.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “W-What if y-you can’t f-find me a-and I n-never see you a-again Master?”

“I’m _going_ to find you Brendon, don’t worry about that. Do you remember Pete? Remember meeting him?”

“Y-Yeah, he’s the one with the uh, the eyebrows right? He looks kinda crazy?”

Spencer laughed. “Yeah baby that’s him, and you remember how I told you he’s really good at finding people right?”

Brendon nodded, then remembered Spencer couldn’t see him. “Yes Sir I remember.”

“Good, he’s with me right now baby, and he’s already trying to find you, the longer I’m on the phone with you, the easier it is for him to find you, so I need you to stay on the phone as long as possible.”

They’re both quiet for a bit, before Brendon quietly speaks. “M-Master, can I ask you something?”

“Of course baby.”

He takes a deep breath. “Sam said. He said that you-uh. You were the one who, the one who killed our f-family.”

Spencer’s silent for a moment, then “Do you believe him?”

“I. I don’t w-want to. But. It makes sense Master, I-I’m sorry p-please don’t be m-mad at m-me.”

“I’m not mad at you, but if you believe it, I want to know why you still called.”

Brendon makes a confused face. “I called because. Because no one else can ever love me as much as you, and no one can ever take care of me like you can. Because you’re my Master and I love you. E-Even if you did kill my family.”

He heard Spencer breathe out, sounding relieved. “You know I only did it because I love you right baby? I wanted you, and if they were alive then you wouldn’t be able to be with me, because they’d try to keep you away from me.”

“Like Sam’s doing.”

“Yes baby, _just_ like Sam’s doing.”

Brendon nods slowly, head snapping up when he hears a car door slam.

“Shit! Master I have to go Sam’s home, I love you _please find me_.” 

He doesn’t wait for a reply and carefully sets the phone down, leaving Sam’s room and shutting the door, before rushing to his room and flipping open his music tablet, and grabbing his guitar and pretending to play, trying to calm his breathing.

He heard Sam enter the house, move into the kitchen and start putting groceries away, and he started playing random chords, finally calming down a bit. A few minutes later, he heard Sam coming down the hall, and opening his bedroom door. 

Brendon stops playing, listening carefully for any sign that Sam noticed anything out of place, when he hears Sam’s footsteps coming towards his bedroom, he starts playing again, pretending to be immersed in his notebook.

“You were doing laundry huh?” He looks up, and his heart drops when he sees Sam holding the phone. Brendon shrugged, then played dumb.

“I got caught up, haven’t had much time to play lately.” He looked away, and started playing again, Sam sighed angrily.

“Bullshit Brendon!” He stomped over to Brendon until he was standing in front of him, and kicked his tablet away. When Brendon stared up at him, startled, he held the phone up. “I know you fucking called someone, who was it?”

Brendon didn’t reply.

“It was Smith wasn’t it? You contacted him didn’t you?”

When Brendon still didn’t say anything, he groaned. “Brendon, you don’t-how can you still want to go back to him!? He-the guy killed _our family_ and he did it just so he could fucking _kidnap you_! He’s _possessive_ and _manipulative_ and a _murderer_ and creepy as all fuck, and you still want to be with him??”

Brendon stands up, then sets the guitar on the bed before turning to face Sam angrily. “He _loves_ me Sam! And I-I know that he killed them and I _know_ it was fucked up and wrong and he shouldn’t have done that, I _know_! But-but he only did it because he wanted to be with me! And he didn’t want anyone to take me away from him like you did! You just don’t get it!”

Sam gapes at him, before dropping the phone and rubbing his hands over his face. “I dont get it? Of course I don’t fucking _get it_! Like, okay, maybe he actually _does_ love you, but normal people don’t kill the family of the person they love! They don’t want to keep the person they love trapped in a fucking bubble! He’s treating you like a possession not a person, how can you be okay with that in any way!?”

Brendon makes a frustrated noise. “ _Listen_! I _know_ he’s possessive! He won’t let anyone touch me unless there’s a good reason, and he doesn’t let me leave the house unless I’ve got at _least_ four guards, and the last time a girl tried flirting with me, I had bruises on my wrists and my neck for _weeks_!” Sam looks mortified, but he keeps talking, “And you know what? I _like_ it! I like that he doesn’t want me to leave the house, and he wants me to call him _Master_ , and that I’m probably never going to have a job, or anything like that. _I like it!_ Does he treat me like a possession? Yeah, maybe, but he treats me like his most treasured possession, and I _love_ it! And the fact that he killed to keep me, _makes me love him even more_!”

When he finished, he was panting and trembling slightly, and Sam was silent. After a few minutes, he swallowed loudly, then spoke quietly.

"Brendon, I just don’t-you’re so level headed, and _smart_ , and I _know_ you can’t _actually_ think it’s okay just-just being someone's _plaything_! I really think you need _help_ Bren!" 

Brendon looked exasperated. "What does-what kind of help could I possibly need!?"

"Like-like a psychiatrist, or-or a therapist or _something_ , Brendon he's completely messed with your brain, you're not yourself!" Sam had a hold on Brendon’s shoulders, and was gripping them tightly. “Brendon, you’re the only family I have left, and even if you weren’t, I can’t let you go back to him, he’s a sociopath and there’s no way you’d even be safe, much less _happy_.”

“I _was_ happy, Sam! With my Master!” Sam let go of his shoulders and stepped away, a distraught look on his face.

“Brendon he’s got you brainwa-”

“I don’t fucking care what you think Samuel! I want my Master!”

Sam went to retort, but was interrupted by the sound of the front door slamming open.They both went silent when they heard quick footsteps coming down the hall.

Sam hissed, “Brendon, behind me. Now.” and drew a gun. When Brendon didn’t move, he grunts in frustration and pulls Brendon behind him, then trains his gun on the doorway, waiting. A moment later, a tall man is standing in the doorway, unarmed and grinning madly.

“Well, is that a gun or are you just happy to see me?” Sam keeps his aim trained on the man.

“Who are you? And what do you want?”

The man smirks, then leans up against the doorframe casually. “I’ll answer both questions if you let me speak to little bambi behind you.”

Sam is silent, thinking it over, before he nods curtly. “Briefly.” The man’s ever-present grin grows before he looks over Sam’s shoulder at Brendon, features softening slightly.

“Hey bambi, are you okay?” Brendon looks surprised, but nods slowly. “Good. I don’t know if you know who I am, but my name’s Gabe Saporta, I’m friends with your Master?” Brendon’s eyes widen and he steps sideways, so he’s not fully behind Sam anymore.

“You’re the one with. Um. Bill?” Gabe laughs softly, face growing fond.

“Yes, my William, I’m glad Spencer’s told you about us.” Brendon smiles, and goes to reply, but is interrupted by the sound of the safety on Sam’s gun clicking off.

“That’s enough Saporta. What the fuck do you want?”

Gabe’s look turns dark, and he directs his gaze at Sam again. “I’m fairly certain you know what I want _Urie_ , so if you’d step out of the way, it’d make everything a lot less painful for you, and a lot easier for me.”

Sam shakes his head, pushing Brendon behind him again. “No. Brendon is the only family I have left and I can’t let you take him back to Smith. He’s not a fucking object that Smith owns.” Gabe sighs, and finally steps into the room, standing at his full height and coming a good four inches taller than Sam.

“I feel for you, really I do Samuel, but little bambi’s _owner_ misses him, and I don’t like people who steal my friends’ possessions.” Sam’s grip tightens on the gun, and his finger tightens minutely on the trigger, before Gabe’s hitting the gun out of his hand. It goes off, shooting past Gabe’s knee as it falls to the floor. Gabe looks at Sam, mock-hurt. “I can’t believe you actually tried to _shoot_ me Samuel, I thought we had something special.” Sam looks disgusted, and lunges at Gabe, who falls back into the wall from the force, before getting a hold of Sam’s elbow, twisting it, and using the leverage to flip them and push him up against the wall.

“Honestly, you being with the FBI I figured you’d be better at this shit.” He grabs Sam’s other hand and pins him, before looking over his shoulder at Brendon; who’d pressed back against the opposite wall when the gun had fired. “You alright bambi?” Brendon nods, and Gabe smiles, pressing harder into Sam, who’d started struggling again. “Good. Now I want you to go outside, ask for Victoria and Lynn, and tell them to come in here okay?”

Brendon leaves, giving Sam and Gabe a wide berth, and when he’s gone, Gabe turns his attention back to Sam, his tone deadly serious. “Alright Urie, I didn’t want to stress out the little bambi, but now that he’s gone, it’s time for business.” He pauses when Sam struggles again.

“Fuck off Saporta, _Brendon_ is a fucking adult what the actual fuck is wrong with you freaks!?” Gabe snorts, pressing his elbow into Sam’s back.

“I should be asking _you_ that, you kidnapped your own cousin from his _husband_ , who he was perfectly happy with, for your own selfish reasons.” Sam splutters, trying to wrestle his hands from Gabe’s firm grasp. 

“You’re all fucking _crazy_ Saporta, you belong in the fucking psych ward!” Gabe just chuckles, and nods at Lynn, who’s quickly followed by Victoria.

“Ladies, he’s all yours.” Victoria grabs a hold of him as Gabe lets go, and Lynn is tying his feet together as Gabe exits the room.

When Gabe steps out of the house, Brendon is sitting on the hood of one of the three cars they’d arrived in, and speaking animatedly to Ryland. Brendon sees Gabe coming and gets down from the hood, standing as he waits for Gabe to get closer before he speaks.

“Is he-is he um..” He looks down at his hands uncomfortably, before Gabe understands what he’s asking. 

“No bambi, he isn’t dead, yet.” Brendon’s eyes widen.

“Y-Yet, Sir?” Gabe smiles, reaching a hand out and petting through Brendon’s hair.

“Sir? So polite bambi, your Master has taught you well.” He brings his hand down so it’s resting on Brendon’s shoulder. “But no, not yet, I’m sure your Master will have something to say about that though, he doesn’t like it that bad people tried to take you away from him.” Brendon nods.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where is my Master? I wanted-I-I had hoped he’d be here.” He sounds dejected, and Gabe shushes him, pulling him along until they’re in the back of the car Brendon had been sitting in; Gabe cradling Brendon comfortingly.

“It’s alright bambi, your Master’s in LA though, we’d spread out to look for you, and I was the closest one to you okay?” Brendon nods, looking relieved, and Gabe laughs lightly. “Did you think he’d give you up? Because I’m telling you right now, that is _never_ going to happen.” Brendon shrugs, picking at a loose thread in his jeans. 

“I don’t want to think so, but all I’ve heard the last few weeks is that he doesn’t _actually_ love me, and I don’t want to believe it, but…” Gabe shushes him again.

“I know bambi, I know, but you have to remember, these evil men have tried to play with you, and make you think that no one but them could _possibly_ know what’s best for you, and you know who does know what’s best for you right?” Brendon nods determinedly. 

“My Master does.”

“That’s right, and you’re going to remember that, because your Master is good, and he’d be so upset if you were to doubt him, and I know you don’t want that.”

Brendon shakes his head vigorously. “No! I don’t want to upset him! I know he knows what’s best for me, and I trust him to take care of me.” He finishes determinedly, and Gabe smiles, pleased with himself.

“That’s a good boy, your Master’s going to be so happy with you when he comes to get you.”

Brendon relaxed visibly, cheeks flushing happily. “Where am I going to stay, while I wait?”

“Your Master and I have decided you’re going to stay with me until he gets back, so you’re going to get acquainted with my William, does that sounds alright?”

Brendon relaxes into Gabe, curling up in the seat next to him, and nods. “Yes Sir, can I sleep?”

Gabe settles into his seat, gesturing to Ryland to start driving, then pulls Brendon so he’s laying in his lap and begins to play with his hair. “Of course you can bambi, you’ve had a very tiring month, and you’ve been so _good_. Get some rest.”

Brendon smiles, finally feels safe and closes his eyes; sleeping peacefully for the first time in over a month.

\-----

The next time Brendon wakes up, it takes him a moment to remember what happened, and then he’s sitting up, only to realize he’s in a comfortable bed. He looks at his surroundings, and sees he’s in a guest room, but there’s a large TV hanging on the wall, a dresser, a closed door he assumes leads to the closet, an open door that leads to a bathroom, and even a guitar on a stand in the corner. He gets out of bed, stretching and rubbing his eyes, then going into the bathroom.

When he’s done in the bathroom, he’s halfway to the door leading out of the room, when he realizes his clothes have been changed. He blushes when he realizes that means someone (most likely Gabe) changed him while he was sleeping. He continued out into the hallway, completely lost and guessing about where he had to go. 

After several minutes of walking down random hallways, he stopped and sighed in frustration.

 _Great, now I’m lost in this huge freaking house, there’s no one around, and I don’t even know how to get back to my room._

He turned, trying to retrace his footsteps, but wound up in what looked like a living room. The large TV on the wall was on and playing some reality show, there were opened snack bags and drinks on the coffee table in front of the couch, but no one was actually present. He looked around nervously, unsure of what to do, then decides that obviously he’s welcome, so he sits on the edge of the couch and waits for someone to come back.

Over forty-five minutes later, he’s found the remote, and is curled up in the corner of the couch watching reruns of Teen Wolf, when a tall man with long hair comes in. He looks surprised to see Brendon, but not unhappy.

“Well you look comfortable.” Brendon sits up, setting the remote on the coffee table bashfully.

“Sorry I didn’t-I figured I could-if you want me to le-”

The man interrupts him hastily, “No! No it’s fine! I’m glad you’re comfortable.” Brendon nods, slowly sitting back into his previous position. The man smiles, then moves to sit cross legged on the couch, facing Brendon. “So. You’re Brendon.” Brendon nods slowly.

“Yeeeaaah, and you are?”

“Oh! Sorry, I’m William, but you can call me Bill, Bilvy, or Will.” Brendon’s face lights up in recognition.

“Oh, _you’re_ William! My Master’s told me about you!” William looks pleased, then gives Brendon a flirty look.

“All bad things I’m assuming.” Brendon blushes.

“Uh...I don’t really-” William laughs, and reclines back onto the armrest, one arm thrown over the back of the couch casually.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.” Brendon laughs nervously, but relaxes again anyway. William considers him for a moment, before looking serious.

“Hey, are you okay?” Brendon looks at him a moment, before sighing.

“Yeah. I guess, I’m just. I don’t know.” William nods understandingly anyway.

“You miss your Master don’t you?” When Brendon nods, he scoots closer to him. “Hey I get it, if anyone took me away from my Papi, I-I’d probably….I don’t even know, but your Master is coming to get you and it’s gonna be okay. And until then, you’ve got me of course.” He smiles at Brendon and Brendon smiles back.

“Thank you William, I’m glad you’re here.”

“That’s a two way street, I get kinda lonely here by myself when my Papi’s gone, I’m sure you get lonely by yourself when your Master leaves.”

Brendon nods as William shifts so he’s leaning up against him, and smiles. “Yeah, I get pretty lonely, but Master gets me video games, and I think he’s getting me a puppy soon because I keep asking, so it’s alright,” He looks up at William and shrugs. “I mean, as long as he keeps coming home I’m not gonna complain.”

William grins and throws an arm over Brendon’s shoulder, grabbing the remote then propping his feet up on the coffee table. “You and me both Bren, now, how do you feel about Disney movies?” Brendon settles into William’s side.

“That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard in a month.”

\-----

A couple hours later, curled up around each other, and completely engrossed in Pirates of the Caribbean is how Gabe finds them. He stands in the entryway, smiling fondly at their comments about the movie, before he walks up behind the couch, placing a hand on William’s head and sliding it down, trailing across William’s cheek and down until it’s resting lightly on his neck above his collarbones. William instantly tilts his head back, smiling up at Gabe.

“Hello Papi.” Gabe smiles and bends down to place a kiss on William’s lips.

“Hello kitten, you being good?” When William nods, he brings his hand back up to toy with his hair idly, then smiles over at Brendon; who’s watching them longingly. “Hello to you too bambi, are you having fun with Bilvy?” Brendon says yes and Gabe nods. “Good, don’t want either of you to be bored or anything, I’d have to intervene then.” He smiles slyly at William, who flushes and shifts, before turning back to Brendon. “I spoke to your Master on our way back earlier, and he got on a flight as soon as we stopped speaking, so he should be here to get you within the next couple hours okay?” Brendon’s face lights up and he looks relieved.

“Yes Sir, that’s definitely okay.” Gabe chuckles fondly, running his fingers through William's hair a last time, before standing straight and circling around the couch to sit on the end. He gestures to William, who curls up into him and pulls Brendon with him until they're all huddled up together and watching the rest of the movie.

Towards the end of the movie, Gabe has started taking small pieces of William’s hair, wrapping them around his fingers and tugging it, before letting it go and doing it to another piece. After a few minutes, William’s started letting out quiet breathy moans every time he does it, and Brendon’s watching them carefully out of the corner of his eye. After one particularly hard pull, William’s breath hitches as he groans lowly, and Gabe looks pleased with himself, leaving a hand tangled in William’s hair, and leans down to start planting kisses to William’s neck, to which William closes his eyes and let’s his head drop back.

Brendon whimpers quietly, and William’s eyes snap open to look at him. He gasps when Gabe simultaneously bites at his jugular and slides his free hand up his shirt to play with one of his nipples, William brings a hand up to set it on Gabe’s head. “P-Papi, I don’t know i-if we shou-ah-Brendon’s s-still h-here a-an-” Gabe twists his nipple and he quiets, letting out a bitten back moan.

“I’m aware he’s here kitten, don’t question me,” He twists William’s nipple again harshly, before turning to face Brendon. “anyway, I don’t think he minds,” He smirks at Brendon, looking down at the obvious bulge in his pajama pants before looking back up at him. “do you bambi?”

When Brendon just blushes and ducks his head instead of answering, William let’s out a cry, and when Brendon’s head comes back up, Gabe i looking at Brendon, one hand with a tight, painful grip on his nipple, and the other pulling tightly at his hair. “Answer me bambi, or I keep hurting poor little Bilvy.” Brendon’s cheeks flush deeper, and he speaks quickly.

“N-No Sir, I don’t mind at all.” Gabe smiles at him, relaxing his grip on William and pressing a kiss to forehead as he let’s out little whines.

“Such a good little kitten for me aren’t you Guillermo?” William nods

“Y-Yes Papi, always good for you.” Gabe smiles adoringly at him, then slides his hand out from under William’s shirt and leaves it to rest on his thigh.

“Of course you are kitten, now pay attention to the movie, you have company, you don’t want to be rude do you?” William looks distressed and whines.

“B-But y-you-” Gabe’s face contorts into a look of displeasure, and his grip on William’s hair tightens again, then brings his hand up from William’s thigh and casually smacks his cheek, light enough so it doesn’t bruise, but hard enough that William gets the message.

“You know better than to question me slut, now be _good_. You’ll have plenty of time to be greedy later.” William whimpers and nods, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to spill over.

“I’m sorry Papi, I didn’t mean to-”

Gabe pets his hair, then coos at him, “I know you didn’t sweetheart, but you need to remember your place. Now watch the movie with bambi, his Master isn’t here and I expect you to be nice.” William looks less upset, and reaches his arms out for Brendon,who’d shifted his eyes away, to curl up into him again. When they’re all settled again, Gabe starts the next movie, and they stay comfortably seated like that until Brendon and William both fall asleep.

\-----

An hour and a half later, Gabe’s phone rings, and he sees it’s Spencer. He untangles himself from William, and moves into the hallway, when he picks up, he doesn’t even say “Hello” before Spencer’s talking.

“I’m in your house right now, where are you.” Gabe walks until he reaches the top of the stairs, then grins and yells into the phone.

“Over here!” When Spencer reaches the foot of the stairs, he has an unimpressed look on his face.

“Was that really fucking necessary Gabe?” When Gabe just laughs he rolls his eyes and starts climbing the stairway. “Well where is he? Is he okay?” Gabe claps a hand on his shoulder and they begin walking back the way Gabe came. 

“He’s absolutely fine, William and him watched movies all day and he’s sleeping now,” he smiles over at Spencer. “he’s absolutely lost without you though, it doesn’t seem like his cousin was able to get through to him.” Spencer’s face contorts into anger.

“Speaking of the bastard, do you have him?”

“Yeah, Lynn and Vicky have him all ready to go wherever you want him.”

Spencer nods as they stop outside the living room. “Good, tell them to bring them to my place, Ryan’s there and he knows what I want. Is he in here?” Gabe nods.

“Will do, and yeah, him and William were asleep when I left.” Spencer nods and they both go into the room, Spencer making a beeline straight for Brendon, who was sleeping with his head lying on William’s shoulder. Spencer stops, relief flooding him and lifting a huge weight off his chest for the first time in a month, before he rests a knee on the couch and pulls Brendon against him so Gabe can lift William from the couch. Once he’s got William safely nestled in his arms he grins at Spencer and whispers “Have fun” then turns around and leaves.

When he’s gone, Spencer adjusts how he’s holding Brendon, so his head is resting on Spencer’s chest; Spencer’s got one arm holding him up, and uses the other brush hair off of his face gently while he speaks softly, “Hey, Bren, baby, wake up sweetheart.” Brendon stirs slightly, and Spencer speaks louder, “Baby, wake up for me.” Brendon groans sleepily, eyelids fluttering open, looking confused for a second before his eyes widen and he sits up quickly, throwing himself into Spencer’s lap and wrapping his arms around Spencer’s neck.

“Master oh my god you’re here, you’re here you came for me Master I knew you would Master I _missed_ you I-” Spencer laughs, wrapping his arms around Brendon and pulling him closer.

“Sssh baby it’s okay, I’m here, I have you.” He hears a quiet sniff and pulls back, looking at Brendon’s face. When he sees the tears spilling over he coos and cradles Brendon’s face in his hands, rubbing at his tears with his thumbs. “Baby, sweetheart, it’s alright, hey don’t cry love.” Brendon sniffs again, and brings a hand up to wipe across his own eyes.

“I-I know M-Master I j-just d-didn’t know…” He trails off, and looks up at Spencer, hoping he’d understand. Spencer’s heart clenches and he pulls Brendon into a hug again.

“I know baby, I know, but you have to remember I’ll _always_ come for you. I will never _ever_ let anyone take you away from me, you know that right?” Brendon nods.

“Yes Master, of course.” Spencer smiles and kisses Brendon’s forehead.

“Good boy, and you know why, right?”

“Because you love me, and I belong to you.”

“ _Yes_ Brendon, you’re so good for me, I love you so much.” Brendon smiles and snuggles closer to Spencer.

“I love you too Master, missed you so much.” Spencer leans back into the couch, pulling Brendon with him and holding him close, one hand playing with Brendon’s hair and the other rubbing his back rhythmically.

“I know baby, but I’ve got you now, you’re okay now.” Brendon sighs, and they stay like that, wrapped up in each other for the first time in too long.

\-----

They had decided to stay at Gabe’s for the remainder of the week, so they stayed there another four days. By the time they got home, both of them were ready to stay home alone together for a long time.

The minute they get back, Brendon notices there’s been changes made to the house. That is, there’s a passcode lock on every door, and as soon as they get inside the house, Spencer shows Brendon to a room he can run to and firmly lock himself in if anyone ever gets inside again.

After they’ve gotten settled in, eaten, watched a movie, made themselves comfortable again (Spencer told Brendon he hadn’t been home since Brendon had gone missing) and had gone up to their bedroom, Spencer kisses Brendon firmly, until he’s glassy eyed and completely pliant for Spencer.

Spencer pulls back, one hand on the back of Brendon’s neck. “Kneel baby, I’ve got a surprise for you.” Brendon’s eyes widen in excitement, and he kneels immediately, head down and hands resting lightly on his thighs. Spencer smiles, and rests his hand on Brendon’s head for a moment as an acknowledgement of his good behavior, before moving away from Brendon. A moment later he’s back, holding a box, and crouching next to Brendon.

He reaches a hand out and touches Brendon’s chin lightly, so Brendon lifts his head to look at him. Spencer pulls his hand back and smiles at Brendon, whose eyes are already unfocused. “It’s been too long since you’ve been under hasn’t it baby?” Brendon nods and Spencer makes a considering noise. “We’ll get you there, it won’t take long at all.” He takes the lid off the box, and lifts a black leather collar, decorated with silver studs and an O ring, out of it, holding it up for Brendon to see. “Look at what I got you sweetheart.” Brendon’s eyes widen, and he licks his lips.

“Can-Can I hold it Master?” Spencer smiles, and hands it to him carefully. Brendon takes it, gently turning it over in his hands, completely in awe. He touches the studs, and feels the soft lining, shivering slightly at the thought of where it’s going to go in a few moments. After he’s had his fill, he hands it back. “Please can you put it on me? I want to wear it.” Spencer nods.

“Of course baby, show me your neck.” Brendon obeys, tilting his head back so Spencer can buckle it on. When he gets it buckled, he grips a chunk of Brendon’s hair, and uses it to angle Brendon’s head so he’s looking at him. “Alright sweetheart, I’ve got some new rules that go along with this.” He fingers the collar lightly, and Brendon nods, sitting up straighter and hanging on Spencer’s every word. Spencer smiles slightly, then continues, “Rule number one, I am the only one allowed to take this off of you, you’re not allowed to touch it unless _I_ give you my permission. Got it?” Brendon nods.

“Yes Sir. I’m not allowed to touch it, or take it off without your permission.”

“Good boy. Rule number two, you’re going to be wearing this at all times. When you’re sleeping, when you’re eating, when I’m fucking you. Always.” Brendon shudders, and his eyes are beginning to droop.

“Y-Yes Sir. I’ll always wear it.” Spencer presses a kiss to his forehead, still rubbing along the collar.

“You’re also coming with me everywhere. If I’m going to be gone longer than twentyfour hours, you’re coming with me. And you’re going to come to meetings too, depending on who they’re with you’ll be kneeling by me or sitting by me.”

Brendon blinks slowly, then whimpers. “Y-Yes Master, _please_ don’t leave me again.” Spencer shushes him.

“I won’t baby, I’m never letting anyone take you _ever_ again.”

\-----

Spencer hummed quietly to himself as he unlocked the door leading down into his “cellar” underneath his shed behind his house. He began walking down the stairs, Weekes trailing quietly after him as he went. He passed several doors, then stopped when he reached the one he was looking for. Before opening it, he turned to Weekes.

“I want you to wait for my signal, then do what I told you alright?” Weekes nodded, then turned, standing by the door in military form. Spencer nodded, satisfied, and unlocked the door with a passcode, then went inside.

When he enters, the first thing he sees is Sam, ankles and wrists chained and attached to the wall. When he steps into the small room, Sam looks up, then glared viciously at him.

“What the _fuck_ do you want, _Smith_?” Spencer smirked slightly, then crossed his arms, leaning casually up against the wall.

“I don’t want anything, _Urie_. I’m just here to make a point.” Sam was silent for a minute, before he licked his lips and huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Then make your goddamn point Smith, I hate looking at your fucking face.”

Spencer’s smirked widened as he pushed off of the wall, moving to stand in front of Sam. “Believe me, I hate looking at yours just as much.” He didn’t speak for a moment, then started pacing. “I hope by now you’ve realized I’m going to kill you.” Sam didn’t reply and he glanced at him, looking expectant. “Well?” Sam just glared at him, and he grinned. “Good. But do you understand _why_ I’m going to kill you?” Sam’s face contorted in anger.

“Because you’re a fucking possessive _psycho_ who has no idea how to treat another human being!?” Spencer rolled his eyes.

“You’re really going with psycho? Really??” He shook his head. “I’m not a psycho, I’m just in love.”

“Normal people don’t kill the family of the person they love!”

Spencer shrugged. “Normal people don’t love each other as much as I love Brendon.”

“How can you even say you love him!? If you really did you’d want him to be happy! You’d want him to have his family!” Spencer looked angry for the first time.

“I _do_ want him to be happy, and up until this whole fucking _mess_ , he was!”

Sam looked disbelieving. “He has Stockholm Syndrome! You _brainwashed him_ so he wouldn’t know how to function without you!” Spencer shrugged, face relaxing back into it’s previous nonchalance.

“I prefer saying that I _trained_ him; but if you want to call it Stockholm, or brainwashing, I can’t stop you.” Sam made a shocked expression.

“So you’re admitting you brainwashed him?” Spencer snorted.

“I’m not going to deny something I’m proud of.”

“You’re sick. Fucking _sick_.”

“That may be, but I have Brendon, so I really don’t care.”

Sam was seething. “You don’t fucking _have_ him. He’s going to realize one day what you’ve done and you’re going to lose him.” Spencer sighed, taking out his phone and tapping something onto it, then pocketing it; turned back to Sam.

“But I _do_ have him Samuel. I have him so completely, that even faced with one of his closest family members he thought was dead, he _still_ went behind your back and found a way to get to me,” He crouched so they were making eye contact. “He fought with the men you hired to _kidnap_ him every step of the way, even though they were nothing but nice to him, and since being back with me? He hasn’t asked about any of you _once_.” Sam swallowed, but didn’t reply, and Spencer laughed. “I _own him_ Sam, and he knows it. He’s mine, and _nothing_ is ever going to make him believe otherwise.” There was a knock on the door, and Spencer stood, going to open it.

When he did, he spoke to someone outside it in hushed tones. When he stepped aside, holding the door open, Brendon entered the room, then stood in the middle of it, watching Spencer as if awaiting instruction. Sam gaped.

Brendon was wearing a pair of loose fitting basketball shorts, and a tank top. That part was okay. The collar and the wrist cuffs? No.

He hadn’t looked at Sam once since he’d entered the room.

Spencer shut the door, then walked to Brendon, smirking at Sam the entire time. When he reached Brendon, he stood pressed up behind him and set a hand on the back of Brendon's neck, then addressed him, keeping eye contact with Sam.

"Are you going to be good for me baby?" Brendon nodded.

"Always, Master." Spencer smirked at Sam then moved his hand to Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon bowed his head, and put his hands behind his back, and Spencer moved his hand up to run it through his hair.

“That’s my good boy.” Brendon smiled at the praise, and Sam felt like he was going to puke. It must have shown on his face, because Spencer grinned at him as he tapped the side of Brendon’s neck. Brendon’s head tilted, baring his throat to Spencer.

Sam knew what Spencer was going to do right before he did it, and let out a warning, “Smith don’t-” before Spencer was gripping Brendon’s hair, holding him in place, and lowering his head to kiss at Brendon’s neck. Brendon let out a small whine as Spencer left a mark, then whimpered when he pulled away. Sam swallowed, then pulled at his restraints angrily.

"Fucking stop it, Smith.”

Spencer’s smirk grew, and he combed his fingers through Brendon’s hair, starting at his forehead. Brendon tipped his head back, so he was looking at Spencer. “Baby, do you want me to stop?”

Brendon shook his head, then licked his lips, “No Master, please don’t stop.” Spencer shrugged at Sam, then squeezed the back of Brendon’s neck. Brendon knelt immediately, head bowed again.

Spencer looked possessively at his kneeling form, then, combing his fingers through Brendon’s hair, he directed his gaze at Sam again. “You see, Sam? How well he obeys? He doesn’t even _hesitate_ to do what I want him to.” He smiles, “He’d do anything I want him to, and he wouldn’t even question it.”

Sam shook his head, then looked at Brendon. “Brendon! Do you even hear him? He’s talking about you as if you’re not even in the room! Brendon do you even hear me!?” Brendon made no indication that he even knew there was someone in the room other than Spencer, and Sam slumped helplessly against the wall behind him. Spencer looked triumphant. Sam wanted to gut him.

Spencer stopped touching Brendon, and stepped slightly away from him. “Baby, I want you to look at the man, and I want you to answer my questions.” Brendon looks up, looking straight at Sam, with no friendly recognition at all. Sam’s heart sank, and he realized how truly gone Brendon was for the first time. Spencer spoke again. “Whose are you?”

Brendon blinked, then answered like it was obvious. “I’m yours.”

“Good boy, who are you?”

“I’m Brendon Smith.”

“Who are you to me?”

“I’m your baby.”

Spencer looked at Sam with a quick smirk, before looking back at Brendon. “Who am I?”

“My Master.”

“Who makes your decisions?” 

“You do Master.”

“And why’s that baby?”

Brendon takes a breath, not breaking eye contact with Sam. “Because no one else knows what’s good for me.”

“Exactly, I’m the only one who can tell you what to do, because I love you, isn’t that right?”

“ _Yes_ Master, that’s right.”

Spencer walks into Brendon’s line of sight, and points at Sam. “Who is this baby?”

“An evil man.” Sam’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head.

“W-What!? No! Brendon I’m-I’m your _family_ I’m not evil how could you- _Brendon please_!”

Brendon doesn’t reply, and Spencer nods. “Good job sweetheart, you’re being so good for me. Up.” Brendon looks pleased with himself as he obeys, standing in the position he’d been in before he’d knelt. Spencer glances at him again, before directing his attention at Sam again. “See, _this_ is why I’m going to kill you Samuel. The way that he obeys me, and loves me? It’s too much for me to risk losing.”

Sam grinds his teeth in anger. “Well even if I’m dead, then what? I’ve got friends, a _life_ , they’re not just going to accept me disappearing! And Wilson and Conrad? What about them? They’ll connect the dots! You’re not as smart as you think you are you bastard!” Spencer snorts.

“Wilson and Conrad? You really think I let them get away?” He laughed, “No. We caught them, and I gave them to _Saporta_.” Sam’s face paled and Spencer grinned. “So, they’re not dead. Yet.” He moves next to Brendon, and sets a hand on his shoulder. “And as for your “friends” and your life? Well,” he began trailing his hand down Brendon’s arm, causing him to shiver. “you won’t have to worry about that, will you?”

He circles Brendon’s wrist in his hand, putting pressure on the cuff, and Brendon lets out a whine. “Did you want something, baby?” Brendon whines again, nodding, and Spencer hooks a hand around his waist, pulling him into his chest. “What do you need baby?”

Brendon melts into the contact, resting his weight against Spencer. “Need _you_ Master, please.” Spencer shoots a grin at Sam, who’s looking close to vomiting, before he trails a hand up the front of Brendon’s shirt.

“Of course, baby, you’ve been so good for me, you deserve it.” He rubs a finger across Brendon’s nipple, and Brendon lets out a loud moan.

“ _Please_ Master, _please_!” Sam lets out a yell.

“Stop it! Fucking hell Smith _stop_! He’s my _cousin_ you fucking sick bastard!” Spencer chuckles, kissing the side of Brendon’s neck and rolling one of Brendon’s nipples between his fingers. Brendon groans and Spencer smiles wider, nipping at the side of his neck before he begins speaking.

“You like that baby? Like showing someone how much I own you?”

Brendon whimpered, “Y-Yes Master, please just- _mmm_.” He was interrupted by Spencer sliding two fingers into his mouth, at the same time sliding his hand into the front of Brendon’s shorts. Brendon whimpered again, gripping at Spencer’s bicep.

Spencer shushed him, then circled a hand around the base of Brendon’s leaking dick, and started pumping in slowly. “There you go baby, are you gonna come for me? Are you gonna show him that you belong to me?” Brendon nodded, eyes slipping shut as he suckled harder on Spencer’s fingers. Spencer began stroking him faster, running his thumb over the head to gather slick and ease the slide. “Eyes open baby, I want you to look at him when you come for me.” Spencer looked up at Sam’s horror filled face. “Want him to see what you look like when you’re _mine_.” Brendon nodded vehemently, opening his eyes and making eye contact with Sam as his whimpers increased in both pitch and volume.

As Brendon reached his peak, hips thrusting desperately into Spencer’s fist and gripping tightly at his bicep, Spencer leaned in, licking at the shell of his ear as he whispered, “Come for me baby, be good for your Master.” Brendon let out a loud whine, and his hips stuttered as he came. Spencer pulled his fingers out mid-whine and Brendon cried out, broken off “Thank you’s” and “Master” tumbling out in a rush.

Spencer pulls his hand from Brendon’s shorts, and holds up his hand for Brendon to lick clean as he uses the other to hold him up by his waist. “ _Good boy_ baby, fuck, you’re such a good boy for your Master, always so good for me.” Brendon groans, and Spencer pulls his hand away, petting at his hair before giving him instructions. “Go wait for me upstairs sweetheart, kneeling, and no clothes.” Brendon nods, and Spencer kisses him, before slapping his ass as he walks away. When he’s exited the room, and the door is once again shut, he turns back to Sam, who looks completely nauseous.

“You are a fucking _monster_.”

Spencer ignores his remark, and pulls a small handgun from inside his jacket. He pulls a magazine out of another pocket and loads the gun as he walks calmly to where Sam is sitting. When he reaches him, he gives him a cold look, before crouching so he’s level with him. “You think _that_ was me being a monster?” He takes a key out of his pocket, then holds it up for Sam to see. “This? This is the key that unlocks all of your chains.” He nods at the chains restraining Sam’s wrists and ankles. He sets it down in reach of one of Sam’s feet, stands, takes the gun to the other side of the room and sets it on the floor, then turns to face Sam again. “I’m leaving you here with the key,” he points at the gun, “and this. There’s no way you’re getting out of this room once I leave, and even if you did, I’ve got guards down here twentyfour seven.” He shrugs, and walks to the door, opening it then looking back at Sam. “There’s one shot in that gun and no one’s going to come check on you for the next two months.” He smiles grimly.

“You thought I was a monster before? I can’t imagine what you must be thinking now.”

He steps out the door, there’s a click, and he’s gone.

\-----

When Spencer reaches his and Brendon’s bedroom, he’s greeted by the sight of Brendon knelt by the side of the bed, back to the door and completely naked, save for his collar and wrist cuffs. He smiles, lets himself relax, walks up behind Brendon and places a hand on his head, Brendon doesn’t startle at his touch.

“You were so good for me back there baby, I think it’s time for a reward, don’t you think?” He hears Brendon inhale sharply before he’s nodding.

“Yes please Master, I was good, wasn’t I?” Spencer trails a hand down until it’s resting on Brendon’s neck.

“Of course you were baby, just like I knew you would be.” He rubs a thumb on the back of Brendon’s neck and hums thoughtfully. “I’m thinking about getting you tattooed, here seems like a good place.” Brendon whines, high in the back of his throat, but otherwise doesn’t respond. Spencer grins. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that.” He circles around Brendon, sitting down on the bed, then pats his lap. “Come here baby boy.” Brendon happily jumps up from his knees and crawls into Spencer’s lap, pushing his head into Spencer’s neck and cock rubbing up against Spencer’s shirt as he sits close. Spencer trails a hand from his neck down to his ass, sliding a finger down until he’s toying with the plug that’s been inside Brendon all day.

“Oh sweetheart, I bet your hole is all sensitive now, isn’t it?” Brendon whimpers, pushing back slightly onto Spencer’s finger.

“Y-Yes M-Master, s-so sensitive, p-please.” 

Spencer grips the base of the plug, twists it slightly, then pulls it out slowly. Brendon groans, long and drawn out, the drag of the plug creating friction just this side of pleasurable. Once Spencer has it almost all the way out, he pauses, and waits long enough for Brendon’s breathing to get heavy in anticipation. “M-Master…” He doesn’t continue, but pants into Spencer’s neck. Spencer waits a few more minutes, then without warning, pushes the plug hard back into Brendon’s body, until it’s buried deep inside him again. Brendon’s back arches, letting out loud broken off cries as he clutches at Spencer’s shoulders. “Ah! Master oh god, please fuck me, need you so bad Master, ple-ase!”

Spencer pulled the plug out again, faster this time, and pushed it in again before pulling out. He began fucking it into Brendon, letting him writhe and squirm in his lap and rut his leaking cock against Spencer’s shirt. After several minutes, Brendon’s cries had gotten loud and desperate, and just as he was starting to let out the breathy little whines that always accompanied his orgasm, Spencer pulled the plug all the way out, and gripped the base of his cock to stop him from coming. Brendon let out a devastated moan, before stilling his thrusting hips and burying his face into Spencer’s shoulder.

Spencer kept him like that a moment, before he stood, throwing Brendon onto the bed before beginning to undress himself. Brendon scooted up on the bed, laying starfished out, bare and vulnerable for Spencer. When Spencer finally crawled up onto the bed, tube of lube in hand, Brendon spread his legs, immediately creating a space for Spencer between them. Spencer groaned in approval, then reached up, clipping the cuffs on Brendon’s wrists to the headboard, then pulled away. He slicked up two of his fingers, then circled them slowly around the rim of Brendon’s already loose hole. When Brendon’s face began to scrunch up in frustration, and his hands were clenched into fists, Spencer finally pushed both fingers in, eliciting a loud moan from Brendon. He smirked, scissoring his fingers a few times, before he slid a third finger inside. 

Brendon moaned again, hips rising up off the bed slightly, before being stopped by Spencer gripping them and squeezing until Brendon had tears in his eyes. Spencer made eye contact with him, looking sternly at him. “ _Still_.” Brendon whimpered, but nodded, closing his eyes and trying to relax his body. Spencer hummed in approval, before sliding his fingers out of Brendon, and gripping his other hip. Brendon’s breath caught, and he swallowed, biting his lip in anticipation. A second later, and he felt the tip of Spencer’s cock pushing against his hole. He whined, and Spencer let out a chuckle.

“Fuck baby, I’m not even _in_ you yet and you’re already making noise for me.” He began pushing inside, to Brendon’s relief, leaning over Brendon and watching his face as he did. “Look at you sweetheart,” He pressed a kiss to Brendon’s cheek. “taking me so well, you’re so good for me aren’t you?” Brendon nodded, gasping when Spencer pulled out slightly, before pushing in again. 

“A-Always good for you Master, ‘m always good.” Spencer groaned, pulling his hips back slowly, before beginning to thrust into Brendon in earnest.

“Yeah you are baby, because you’re mine, all fucking _mine_.” He leant down, sucking hickeys into Brendon’s collarbone as Brendon began whimpering frantically, pulling at his wrists.

“Y-Yes Master, y-yours! No one else’s, y-you w-won’t let a-anyone else ha-ve me.” Spencer bit into his skin, pulling away and grinning at the mark he made, before letting out an animalistic growl, gripping Brendon’s hips harder as he fucked into him harder.

“That’s-ah-that’s right sweetheart, no one else can have you, you’re _mine_ and I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.” Brendon moaned loudly, legs thrashing.

“P-Please Master, let me come, I need to come!” Spencer slid his hands down, gripping Brendon’s ass and squeezing it.

“Yeah baby, come for me, be a good little slut and come for your Master.” Brendon let out a cry, his wrist cuffs rattling against the headboard as he pulled at them, his body spasming as his back arched off the bed, his cock spurting ropes of come onto his stomach.

“Th-Thank y-you Master! Oh, fuck, thank y-you for l-letting your w-whore come, p-please f-fill me up, I need it Master!” Spencer moaned, covering Brendon’s lax body with his own as he thrusted hard into him.

“Yeah baby, gonna fucking mark you all up inside, claim you and make you mine so everyone fucking knows. Shit, baby such a good little fuckslut for me-ah!” He crashed his hips up against Brendon’s, releasing inside him, and making Brendon whine quietly again.

“Thank you Master, missed you so much, oh god I missed you.” Spencer presses his lips to Brendon’s pulse point, and rubs a hand soothingly along his side.

“I know sweetheart, but I’m never letting you go again, alright?” When Brendon nods, he reaches up and unlocks his cuffs. He moves to pull out, but at Brendon’s sound of protest, he looks up at him questioningly. Brendon looks shy, a blush creeping up his chest.

“C-Can you, um. Can y-you stay in me? F-For a little while? Please Master?” Spencer’s surprised, but pleased, and he gets Brendon to move with him, so they’re both lying on their sides facing each other, legs tangled together and Spencer’s cock still inside Brendon.

“Anything for my baby.” Brendon smiles up at him, then tucks his head into Spencer’s chest.

“I love you Master, nothing will ever change that.” Spencer smiles back, wraps an arm tightly around Brendon’s waist, and pulls the blankets over them before he presses a kiss into his hair.

“I love you too baby, so, so much.”


End file.
